


Anomaly

by Giraffvinu



Series: The Lion Cub [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Grumpy Healer, Humor, M/M, Mpreg, Pregnant Ron, Romance, Smut, Top!Harry, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-18
Updated: 2012-07-28
Packaged: 2019-01-26 19:10:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12564236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Giraffvinu/pseuds/Giraffvinu
Summary: Shivers ran down Ron's back. Even after twenty-one years of knowing and suffering the twins, it was still creepy to see how they could talk to each other without saying a word.





	1. 0/9

**Author's Note:**

> Betas: Winga (1–8) & Voldemort (5–6) & Cloudy (7–9) & MLC (10)
> 
> **Warnings: AU (Fred's alive) & Bad language & EWE & Mature themes, including all sort of nasty things like rimming and top!Harry — oh, and Mpreg! I repeat: _There's a pregnant man in this story!_**
> 
> There are ten chapters in this story, starting from the impregnation and continuing throughout the pregnancy months. Yes, I know that there are actually ten pregnancy months (or forty weeks) but I chose to be more vague and use the more common "Nine Months" in this story. Why? Because there's bound to be imperfections — I've never been pregnant and have only books to guide me, thus more vague approach is better. Plus I've taken liberties for some things, so please, don't stare too much at the numbers!
> 
> This story is AU in the sense (other than having a pregnant male) that Fred is alive. Also, there's no Epilogue of _Deathly Hallows_ , so there's no 3rd generation etc.
> 
> Superthanks to all my wonderful betas <3 Also, thanks to Nappeli for the original idea of the first chapter! ReginaRiddle gave me the Triple-S, thanks to her, too! But most of all, superthanks to my RL-friend who lost her fanfiction-virginity to this story (what a way to go! after all, this _does_ include mpreg, slash, smut AND rimming!). She's been telling me about her two pregnancies, thus adding a bit of reality to this story. Thanks love, your help has been priceless  <333
> 
> This fic is also available [in French](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8856165/1/Anomaly) by [chapinounette](http://www.fanfiction.net/u/4301961/chapinounette)!
> 
>  
> 
> _Disclaimer! I do not own the Potters, J.K. Rowling does. I'm not making any money with this, so don't sue!_

**0/9**

 

"I was just thinking... do you still have that U-No-Poo Antidote?"  
"Why?"  
"What do you want that for?"

Ron blushed bright red. "It's just..."

Fred and George glanced at each other, then identical smirks appeared on their faces.

"Could it be —"  
"— that our ickle Ronniekins —"  
"— is planning on losing his virginity?"

Ron huffed, annoyed. "Well, if you're just going to make fun —"

"No, no! It's important —"  
"— in young man's life —"  
"— to have proper —"  
"— and _clean_ —"  
"— especially clean anal sex."

"You would know about it..." Ron muttered.

This time it was George whose cheeks flushed lightly. Nevertheless, his mischievous grin stayed plastered on his face.

"Why, yes, I would know. And might I add — so would Lee."  
"And Angie," Fred added almost as an afterthought.

Both Ron and George turned to stare at him.

"What? She's adventurous!"  
"I'm sure she is," Ron muttered. "Well, do you still have it?"  
"Actually, no," Fred started but raised his hand, as Ron started to say something, and continued, "but we can make more of it."

Ron looked sceptical. "Just like that?"

"Well, you _are_ our brother —"  
"— our baby brother —"  
"— and Harry _did_ give us the start-up loan."  
"So, we feel we owe him a clean butt-of-a-Weasley."

"Oh, shut up you two!" Ron huffed and threw a roll at George. "When?"

For a while, Fred and George just stared at each other. Shivers ran down Ron's back. Even after twenty-one years of knowing and suffering the twins, it was still creepy to see how they could talk to each other without saying a word.

"Not today. I'm going out with Lee," George said aloud, eventually, "and you have that thing with Angie."  
"That I do," Fred complied.  
"What thing?" Ron asked, curious.  
"Nothing for you to worry about," Fred snapped.  
"Yeah, you should just worry about the Sceptre of the Wizarding World."

Fred gave George a long, hard look.

"What?"  
"Sceptre? It doesn't even rhyme with the Saviour."  
"Well, _sorry_. It's not my fault that you two got me distracted and thinking about Lee's tight buns."  
"Whose tight what?" Lee asked, arriving in the kitchen.

Ron buried his head in his hands and wished he hadn't opened his mouth at all.

* * *

On Friday, though, Ron snatched impatiently the little parcel from Pig's leg, earning a few well aimed pecks on his hand from the tiny owl. Inside the packet, there was a minuscule bottle with a note.

> Orally. We don't want to have to dig this out of your arse.  
>  Take the Potion an hour before the ~~Sceptre~~ Rapier arrives.

After finishing his business, which actually took an extremely short amount of time, Ron showered, shaved, and brushed his teeth. He drew the line on after-shave, though — he didn't want to appear too nervous about the night.

* * *

"Hi."  
"Hi, you," Ron answered, blushing.

Harry grinned and stepped forward to give Ron a kiss. Unfortunately, Ron had the same idea, and they ended up colliding chin to cheek.

"Oops, sorry," Harry apologized, rubbing his cheek.  
"S'alright," Ron mumbled, kneading his aching chin. He dropped an audible kiss on top of Harry's head and took the wine bottle off his hands. "Nice."  
"Thanks. What's for dinner?"  
"Umm," Ron hesitated, trying to remember what it was called.  
"Your Mum made it?"  
"Naturally."  
"Then it's edible, whatever it is."  
"Hey!" Ron protested, smacking Harry's tightly-clad buttocks, while Harry ran past him to the kitchen, sniggering as he went.

In the end, they didn't even get to dessert before Ron's button-down was off, and he was busy sucking Harry's neck while trying to open the buttons of his jeans.

"Sofa," Harry groaned as Ron slid his hand into his pants.  
"Ye-es!" Ron yelped as Harry pinched his nipple — hard.

Then it was all about heat and legs and arms and too many clothes getting on the way and sucking and rubbing and gripping until —

"Wait!" Ron pushed Harry off him.  
"What?" Harry whined. "I'm horny!"  
"I know, you dumb-ass," Ron quipped, squeezing Harry's leaking dick a bit harder. Harry moaned. "I just... Wanted to —"  
"Oh, Ron, don't stop," Harry babbled incoherently.

Ron realised, he was wanking Harry as he spoke, and stopped the former immediately.

"I want you to come inside me."

Harry's cock twitched in Ron's hand, and his eyes widened with surprise.

"Are you —"  
"Yes."  
"Really? Because —"  
"Harry?"  
"What?"  
"Fuck me, please."

That ended the discussion efficiently.

Ron felt bold as he laid his cheek against the sofa, spreading his legs.

"No, no," Harry protested immediately. "I want to see you come. Turn around. Here."

Harry fumbled around and placed a pillow under Ron's hips. Then he ceased to admire Ron spread-eagle in front of him.

"You know I love you?" he said softly.  
"Yeah, yeah. Just fuck me already," Ron grinned and lifted his feet on Harry's shoulders.  
"Git."  
"Well, I'm your git, aren't I?"  
"You sure are," Harry admitted, positioning his throbbing cock at Ron's loosened hole. "You sure it fits?"  
"Yeah. You're not that big."

Harry rolled his eyes, and stroke Ron's dick a couple of times.

"Don't want to hurt you."  
"You won't, mate. Ever."

It did hurt a bit, but Ron's arse had felt somewhat numb since taking the potion — he figured the Antidote had something to do with that. It had also made his belly tingle in a strange way and his cock semi-erect even before Harry had arrived. Harry took care of it, eventually, and it felt so amazingly good that Ron cursed the last seven months they had been wasting their time on hand-jobs and blow-jobs.

Well, not on blow-jobs, really. It definitely wasn't a waste of time to have Harry's mouth clamped around his dick.

Afterwards, Harry lay on top of Ron and drew lazy circles on his chest with his finger.

"We forgot to use a condom."  
"What's a condom?"  
"A rubber thing-y you put on your dick before having sex."  
"Why would you want to do that for?" Ron was puzzled.  
"Well, it prevents diseases from spreading around."  
"You were my first, and I was yours. No diseases. Besides, there's a spell to take care of that."  
"Yeah," Harry grinned and leaned in to kiss Ron's chin. "And, it's not like we have to worry about me getting you pregnant."

Ron barked a laugh, but little did he know that right at the moment, something was happening inside him.

Something they never thought possible.

Something _no-one_ had _ever_ thought possible.

While the two men snuggled in front of the fire, devil may care, the tingling in Ron's lower belly continued, guiding the confused sperm cells to breach a barrier they weren't even supposed to know about. The foreign cells fused with other, equally baffled sperm cells which didn't know how they had ended _up_ there. Into a place that hadn't existed before that afternoon.

A womb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, don't forget to use a condom! We Muggles don't have "spells to take care of diseases" which can, in fact, be transmitted even if it's your first time :E


	2. 1/9

**1/9**

 

"That's the last box?"  
"Yeah."  
"Thank fuck." Ron tugged his shirt. "I think the second to last scraped my chest. It's aching."  
"Lemme see."

Harry hoisted the faded t-shirt over Ron's head, blinding him thoroughly, and examined the uncovered, sweaty, broad, and in many ways, irresistibly perfect chest.

"I don't see anything."  
"Me neither," Ron chuckled under his shirt.  
"Does it hurt here?" Harry prodded Ron's navel with his finger.  
"No!" Ron cried — his belly button was fairly sensitive.

Harry sniggered, ruffling the happy trail.

"Maybe I ought to check closer..."

He licked a droplet of sweat between Ron's pecs. The salty taste made his brains melt — and some other part of his body harden. Without thinking, he pushed his groin against Ron's thigh.

Again, there was that strange tingling in Ron's stomach, and for a fleeing moment, he worried if he had eaten something unsuitable, but forgot all about it as Harry lavished his skin with languid licks. Ron hummed approvingly, until Harry drew his left nipple between his lips.

"Ouch!"  
"Mmh?" Harry asked, distracted, as his mouth was still full of Ron's perky flesh.  
"Too hard!"

If Harry thought it strange that Ron had suddenly developed a dislike for his nipples to be sucked, he didn't show it — just loosened his lip-grip and grimaced.

"Sorry."  
"S'alright. I think it's my nipples that got burnt or something with that damn box."  
"'Kay. I'll be extra careful," Harry hummed, moistening the three hairs Ron had in the middle of his chest. He had secretly named them Casper, Jasper and Jonathan.

The tip of his tongue fluttered over Ron's right nipple, and Harry felt painfully hard the effect of it on Ron.

Painfully, because Ron jolted and bounced directly on Harry's feet.

Hard, because Ron thrust his hips against Harry's, and it was hard not to notice what the feather-light touch had done to him.

"Bloody hell! Do it again!" Ron's breath came out shallow and rapid.  
"What, this?" Harry asked innocently and flicked the right nipple, very gently, with the tip of his tongue.

Again, Ron jerked against Harry, whining uncontrollably.

"Or this?" Harry teased blowing at the nipple, then licking around it slowly.

Ron moaned and buried his hands on Harry's hair, gripping so hard it hurt. His cock tented the loose sweatpants he was wearing, and he rubbed it fervently against Harry's hip.

"Easy, tiger," Harry grunted and pushed Ron against the wall. "No frotting unless I say so."  
"No — no — Harry — I need —" Ron babbled, trying to sneak his hand into his pants.

Harry slapped Ron's hand out of the way.

"Mine!" he growled, and with a fluid motion, he lowered the offending pants and grabbed Ron's already leaking cock. "Hands on the wall!"

Ron was out of control. He was so overwhelmed by the improvised blindfold, the wonderful, exquisite things Harry did with his tongue, and — even if he wouldn't admit it to Harry ever — the dominance in Harry's voice. He slammed his palms against the wall behind him, groaning as Harry started to wank him with mercifully fast pace.

"Come," Harry whispered on Ron's ear.

With one more thrust, Ron came, coating his belly and pants — not to mention Harry's hand and clothes, possibly face, too, judging from the strength of his orgasm — with streams of clear liquid.

Ron was so spent it took a few minutes before he realised what Harry's jerky movements meant. He was huffing on Ron's neck, his other hand gripping Ron's shoulder and other tugging his own cock with a desperate speed. His frenzied whining told without saying that he was about to come. Possibly in few seconds.

Not wanting to interrupt but still wanting to do _something_ , Ron threw off his shirt, leaned in and clamped his mouth on Harry's neck, sucking hard. Harry came with a yelp, shaking so violently that Ron almost stopped his manoeuvres in the fear of Harry having a seizure.

Almost.

Only when Harry collapsed in Ron's arms, gluing their bellies together efficiently, did Ron detach his lips off Harry's neck. He didn't even feel ashamed when he saw the angry red mark on the pale skin. _Mine_ , he thought, grinning mischievously.

"Ten minutes in, and we've already managed to christen the new apartment."  
"The hallway," Ron corrected. "There are still four more rooms, and the bathroom, and the stairs, and the linen closet, and the balcony..."

* * *

As soon as all the necessary kitchen equipments, i.e. the coffee maker, the toaster and the frying pan for the morning bacon, were unpacked, Harry insisted they ready the bedroom. He stepped back as Ron raised his wand; all the years in the Burrow had excelled Ron's household magic into a point where Harry couldn't really compete.

"Where do you want it?" Ron asked as soon as the beddings laid themselves neatly on top of the king-size bed.  
"Where ever you like."  
"Okay."

Ron levitated the bed next to the back wall and let it fall heavily on the wooden floor. The resulting sound vibrated from Harry's head to his toes. It was as though something had clicked inside him. Something had changed irreversibly, and it felt absolutely great!

Harry turned to Ron, eyeing him deviously.

"So, it's our bed."  
"Yeah," Ron grinned, wiping his forehead.  
"Umm, you wanna try it?"  
"Thought you'd never ask."


	3. 2/9

**2/9**

 

"Are you set?"  
"Just go, already!"  
"Okay, sit tight!" Harry shouted out and started the bike.

Their take off was rather bumpy, and Ron wrapped his arms tighter around Harry. At first, flying felt ecstatic but rather soon Ron started to feel nauseated. He pressed his lips together and fixed his stare at the faraway horizon.

It didn't help.

"Harry?"

He got no reaction which wasn't really odd as the bike kept rumbling rather loudly. Ron wondered vaguely if his father had got everything right with Sirius' old motorbike. Should it really be so noisy?

"Harry!" he tried again, this time louder.  
"What?" Harry yelled, turning his head slightly. Even from the poor angle, Ron could see the huge grin on Harry's face.

Ron hesitated. Did he really want to make Harry go back when he was clearly having so much fun? But at that precise moment, Ron's stomach gave another lurch, and he decided that yes, he did.

"I don't feel so good."  
"What?"  
"I'm feeling sick!" Ron yelled at Harry's ear.  
"Oh."

They started to decline, lower and lower, until they landed on a rocky beach. Harry killed the engine and pulled his helmet off. Ron was way ahead of him, in fact, he was already on his fours and retching.

"Ron, what the hell?" Harry yelped and dropped down on his knees.

Ron didn't answer, obviously, because he was busy doing something else. Harry kept patting his back and vanishing the vomit as soon as it splashed on the grey gravel.

"What happened?" Harry asked when Ron had been still for a couple of minutes. "I'm sorry if it was a bit rough but I haven't ridden —"  
"No, no, I don't think it was that," Ron croaked, exhausted. "It must be something I ate."  
"Well, what did you eat?"

Ron had to think about it a bit. And, while he thought, his stomach swayed once more. He heaved again but nothing came out.

"Don't want to think about it," he managed.  
"Okay," Harry murmured, stroking Ron's back up and down. "Do you need to see a healer?"  
"Nah, it'll be alright."

But it wasn't.

Next morning Harry brought Ron coffee to the bed. Ron hurled on the sheets. For lunch, Harry made Ron's favourite: paella. As Ron came to the kitchen and smelled the shellfish, he vomited on his own feet.

"That's enough!" Harry exclaimed after he had cleaned Ron up. "We are going to St. Mungo's."

Ron tried to object but managed only a few, feeble protests before Harry threw him to the Floo. As Harry clambered out of the hearth at St. Mungo's, he found Ron hunched down, being sick again. For the first time in his life, Harry actually announced aloud his name as he called for help. What good was his fame for if he couldn't use it to help his loved ones?

"How long has this been going on?" the much-too-young-looking healer asked when they had levitated Ron into a private room.  
"From yesterday."  
"You should have come earlier."  
"But —"  
"That's quite enough, Mr Potter. You may wait outside."  
"No!"  
"I have to scan Mr Weasley _thoroughly_ , and he will need some privacy."  
"It's okay, we're involved."  
"Oh."

The healer was too trained to flinch but his cheeks flushed a tiniest bit. Harry sat beside Ron's bed and grabbed his hand as the healer muttered a few complicated spells that set Ron to glow blue-ish light.

"What's that for?" Harry exclaimed.  
"It's a Scanning Spell, Mr Potter. Really, if you are so adamant in your wish to stay, you will have to be quiet."  
"Okay," Harry whispered.  
"S'alright, Harry," Ron mumbled.

Harry squeezed Ron's hand and waited patiently while the healer performed his spells. After a while, though, he noticed the same signature for the second time and realised that the healer was doing the same spells over again. After the third time, he coughed gently.

"What?" the healer snapped. There were beads of sweat on his forehead.  
"Sorry to interrupt but why are you repeating the same spells for the third time?"  
"Fourth time."  
"Oh."  
"I apologize. I must be making something wrong because the results... well... they can't be right."  
"Why?"  
"Because according to my readings, your boyfriend is pregnant."

It took a couple of minutes for the message to sink in.

"I'm sorry, what?"  
"Well, either I'm making some grave mistake with my basic spells — which I've been practising for ten years now — or you have gotten your boyfriend pregnant. Or someone else has."  
"There's no someone else," Harry growled.  
"Then, congratulations Mr Potter and Mr Weasley. According to the size of the foetus, you are eight weeks pregnant. And, please, do not ask me how it is possible."

Harry stared at Ron who was staring him right back.

"Pregnant?" Harry whispered, still overwhelmed by the news.  
"Eight weeks?" Ron whispered back, calculating swiftly. "Hey, that's the night we..."  
"Yeah," Harry confirmed. "Our first time."

Ron added two plus two.

"Fred and George!"  
"What?"  
"Those wankers! I asked for... for a Potion to... well, to help the first time. They must've put something in it!"  
"But, surely they wouldn't have done this in purpose?"  
"You'd think?" Ron sneered.  
"May I ask if you used the Safe Sex Spell?" the healer cut in.

Harry blushed and shook his head.

"Well, there you go," the healer sighed, defeated. "For your information, the Triple-S protects also from the sexually transmitted diseases."

Ron didn't listen but nudged Harry closer.

"What do you think?"  
"What do _I_ think? I'm not the one having a Bludger inside my belly in few months."  
"Yeah? Well, you'll be the one who's going to serve 24/7 the one with the Bludger inside their belly."  
"Really?" Harry grinned.  
"You bet your ass," Ron snorted.

* * *

"You bastards!" Ron bellowed as soon as he got in the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.  
"Wait until we get to their apartment," Harry hissed, glancing nervously at the customers.

Fred and George led the furious Ron through the stairs, into their kitchen, while Harry followed them casting Silencing Charms on the way. Ron crossed his arms and stared angrily at his brothers, his foot tapping ominously.

"What's up?" Fred asked tentatively.  
"Yeah, what's got your wand in a knot?"  
"What was in that potion you gave me?" Ron demanded.

Fred and George looked at each other, then at Harry, and started to snigger.

"Oh, come on. Are you pissed because —"  
"— it didn't make the first time all magical —"  
"— and special —"  
"— with a pack of fairies dancing around you two."

George grinned at Fred.

"Nice one. I'm impressed."  
"That's what she said."  
"Shut up you two!" Ron yelled taking a menacing step towards his brothers. "Just shut up!"

Harry grabbed Ron by the elbow and ushered him to the table.

"Ron's pregnant, that's why we want to know," Harry threw over his shoulder before ducking down to give Ron a kiss on the cheek. When he rose up and turned to see the twins, he saw them frozen in a spot, identical dumb-struck expressions on their face.

"So, what was in the potion?" Harry asked again.  
"Ron's what?"  
"Pregnant."  
"Harry, have you noticed that Ron's not equipped to be pregnant?"  
"Yeah, he's a man."  
"Well, not a man, a boy."  
"At least not a woman!"  
"More like —"  
"We've just got back from St. Mungo's. It's true," Harry interrupted. "And, well, because he got the potion from you, I'm sure you can explain why he's pregnant when it's supposed to be impossible."

All in all, Harry was rather proud of how calm he felt at the moment as he was, in fact, starting to get really irritated with the twins. Fred and George seemed to notice this and sobered up, starting to stare at each other. Harry sighed and sat next to Ron, grabbing his hand just in case.

"Looks like it takes a while," Harry whispered after a few minutes had passed.  
"Yeah," Ron huffed, resigned.

Even though George fetched the antidote and both the twins performed some rather complex and advanced spells that Harry hardly recognized, they didn't make Ron any less pregnant.


	4. 3/9

**3/9**

 

"It looks like a fish."  
"Now, come on, Ron."  
"Seriously. Just like a seahorse. Or a tadpole."

Ron's words sounded more like a statement than a complaint, so Harry dared a tiny chuckle.

"What are you laughing at?" Ron snapped immediately. "Our baby looks like something you could find in a tank, and you _laugh_?"

Harry managed not to roll his eyes.

"Mate, I was just —"  
"So, it's only a joke to you?" Ron huffed.  
"Of course not but —"  
"I'm about to be like a giant balloon for months, and you're just fucking laughing at it?"  
"Ron —"  
"Piss off," Ron barked and turned his back at Harry.

Harry threw a warning glance at the healer who looked like he was biting his cheek to stop him from laughing. The healer nodded at once. He weaved his wand, and the 3D-hologram of the foetus inside Ron's belly disappeared. After the healer had left the room, Harry sat on the edge of the bed Ron was lying on.

"Ron? Listen up, mate."  
"Go fuck yourself."  
"Why would I want to do that when I can fuck you?"  
"I'll give you one guess," Ron replied darkly.

This time Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes. Fortunately, Ron couldn't see his face.

"Yeah, like you could _ever_ say no to sex."  
"Watch me."  
"I do. All the time. Especially that tight arse of yours which, by the way, looks fantastic in those jeans."

Ron's lip twitched, and Harry slid boldly his hand on Ron's buttocks.

"Feels fantastic, too."  
"Well, it _is_ my arse."  
"It sure is," Harry grinned and squeezed the tight cheek.  
"You horny bastard."  
"Well, I'm your horny bastard," Harry deadpanned.

Finally, Ron sniggered, and Harry let out a mental sigh of relief.

"You do know that I love both you and our fish?"  
"Tadpole."  
"Okay, tadpole."

Ron sniggered again.

"Yeah, I know, mate. I'm sorry, I'm being so moody."  
"S'alright."  
"It's just the —"  
"Hormones. I know."  
"Yeah."  
"Thank fuck you don't have to take them anymore."  
"I don't?" Ron sounded surprised.  
"You don't. Your body doesn't need them now that the placenta can provide the baby with everything."  
"Oh, in that case..."

Ron rose up and started to open his belt. Harry looked alarmed.

"Ron?"  
"Spell the door close and silent, I'll take care of the lubrication."  
"What?!"  
"Bloody hell, mate! I'm about to get off the hormones that make me wanna fuck every two hours, we have a private room that _no-one_ is about to barge in because they think I'd bite their head off, and you're asking me questions?"

Harry thought about it for half a second before locking and sound proofing the door. He even managed to get rid of his trousers before Ron had finished stripping his. Harry mashed his lips on Ron's as soon as they emerged from underneath the t-shirt he was tossing off.

After a tongue-swirling, lip-sucking, and all to all, mind-numbing kiss, Harry turned Ron around and dropped on his knees.

"Lean on the bed," he commanded hoarsely.

Ron obeyed immediately and spread his legs for a good measure. Harry grinned.

"Atta boy."

Ron huffed but didn't dare to speak until Harry ran his fingers along the back of his legs.

"Mate?"  
"Yeah?" Harry answered, mesmerized by the freckles on Ron's muscular thighs. There were too many of them to be named individually — not that Harry hadn't tried, usually when Ron had fallen asleep before him, spread-eagle on their bed. Which was every single night.

"I love you and stuff, but enough with the foreplay!"  
"Shut up, and put your cheek on the sheet."

This time a few mutinous words escaped Ron's lips.

"I don't want to hear another word if it isn't 'ooh' or 'aah'. Not when I'm doing _this_!"

He licked a long swipe along Ron's arse crack. Ron whined to the mattress.

"Whining is also allowed," Harry smirked and clamped his mouth on the wrinkly hole before Ron could say anything.

Ron's knees buckled, and he uttered a string of profanities to the crispy sheet as Harry took turns on sucking and licking and fucking him with his tongue.

Then, Harry cupped Ron's balls and started to fondle them gently.

Ron crushed the bedding in his clenching and unclenching fists. He bent his knees and started to push back every time Harry's tongue penetrated him. His fully erect cock swayed in pace with his bucking but he was too bent to touch it. Still, Ron was certain he was going to come. Soon. Harry's slick tongue stretched him spectacularly, and he felt his balls, which were still in Harry's hand, tighten.

Suddenly Harry tugged the aforementioned balls, and Ron yelped.

"Not yet," Harry managed. His voice sounded extremely strenuous. "Not until I'm buried down to hilt inside you."

It was close, Ron didn't come for those words. His legs trembled, and when Harry saw it he pushed Ron onto the bed. Ron hissed as his cock accidentally rubbed against the crumbled sheet.

Harry cast the Triple-S, and Ron turned his head to look at him, surprised.

"It's not like you can make me more pregnant, you know?"  
"I know, dumb-ass. It just helps me last longer," Harry said between his teeth as he clambered behind Ron.  
"Oh."  
"Almost. But what I meant —"  
"Oooooh," Ron wailed as Harry pushed in through the loosened ring of muscles.  
"Yeah, that's the sound I was hoping for," Harry sighed.

In the end, they managed to rip the sheets, break the bed, and scare the living daylights out of a house-elf who popped in to change the beddings — before popping out exactly one second after arriving. Scarred for life.

Harry didn't care. He pretty much would have died happy hearing Ron both yell and whine and curse and beg at the same time.

Afterwards, they spooned for a while.

"Do you think the baby felt that?"  
"Nah, you said it yourself earlier," Harry replied, easily.  
"Said what?"  
"It's not that big."


	5. 4/9

**4/9**

**Extrawarning: In this chapter, there are some insinuations of dark things in Harry's past. Nothing is explained in detail, though.**

 

"How's my favourite younger brother doing?" George hollered, stepping down the hearth at Harry and Ron's.  
"I'm your only younger brother," Ron replied darkly.  
"And clever too!" George smirked, turning to Harry. "How's he doing?"  
"I'm right here!" Ron snapped.  
"Still cranky," Harry answered truthfully. "Any news on the antidote?"  
"Yeah, how come it made me pregnant?" Ron asked.  
"Nothing so far," George apologized. "We have been sending owls to the customers who have bought it, but it's a long list. No one has mentioned any side-effects, yet."  
"So, I'm a medical marvel?"  
"Haven't you always been?" George laughed and ducked the curse Ron threw at him. It singed the mantel piece, earning a grunt from Harry.

George helped himself to some tea and sat down.

"I wish I'd been there when you told Mum."  
"I wish I hadn't," Harry replied darkly.  
"Did she really faint?"  
"Yeah."  
"Fell down on the spot?"  
"Yeah."  
"Marvellous," George said admiringly. "We've never been able to make her faint. Yell, yes. Cry, a few times but never faint."

Harry rolled his eyes, but Ron huffed.

"Well, maybe you can make Lee pregnant and see how she takes it."  
"Nah, it'd be old news. Besides, Lee has started to insist we use protection every time we fuck and, well, I think it's better to have sex with the Triple-S than have no sex at all, right?"

Harry took a large gulp of his tea, not daring to say anything, not in front of Ron, but he really had to agree with George; no sex at all sucked.

* * *

A couple of weeks later, Harry and Ron were getting ready for a Sunday lunch at the Burrow.

"My jeans don't fit."  
"Oh?"  
"I must've put on some weight. Do I look fat?" Ron asked, peering his backside in the mirror.

Harry looked at Ron, trying to keep objective.

"I guess you've put on a couple of pounds."  
"Yeah?"  
"I mean, if your jeans don't fit," Harry explained. He really didn't see what was the problem. Surely Ron understood that he was about to get a lot bigger?  
"Actually, these are yours," Ron quipped and threw the jeans at Harry a little harder than Harry had anticipated.  
"Ouch!"  
"Sorry," Ron mumbled but didn't sound sorry at all. "It looks bigger."  
"For fuck's sake, your arse is fine!"

Ron stopped scrutinizing his boxer-clad behind and threw Harry a dirty glance.

"Fine? What happened to 'fantastic'?"

Harry buried his head in his hands.

"So, this is how it's going to be? Now that my arse is bigger, it's just fine? We haven't even fucked in three weeks."  
"Don't I know that," Harry mumbled, irritated.  
"Are you saying, it's my fault?"  
"You're the one who keeps shying away every time I even try to kiss you!"  
"Well, I don't want your pity-sex."  
"Fuck, Ron, I'm two inches from begging you to fuck me!"

Ron turned on the spot to stare at Harry.

"W-what?"

Harry seized the opportunity and dropped on his knees to crawl closer to Ron.

"Please, would you fuck me?"  
" _Me_? Fuck _you_? But you don't like that."  
"I don't care."  
"But... You said it reminds you of —"  
"I. Don't. Care. I want you any way I can get you."

Ron was dumbfounded. He forgot he was supposed to be angry at Harry. He forgot he was supposed to decline all the sex from here to eternity just to show Harry how much he had hurt him. But at the moment, the only thing he could think of was Harry and the desperate, needy look in his eyes.

"No."  
"Please?" Harry whined, reaching to stroke Ron's bare knee.  
"No," Ron repeated and grabbed Harry's hand to pull him up. "But would you fuck me, instead?"  
"Yeah, I would," Harry whispered on Ron's lips before kissing him good and hard.

They never made it to the Burrow that Sunday.

* * *

Harry thought the crisis had been averted but after a couple of weeks their sex life become non-existing again. Instead of cuddling, Ron slept. Instead of talking, he ate. Instead of fucking, he read. The last one threw Harry off balance for a while until he noticed the title of the book Ron's nose was buried in: 'What to Expect When You're Expecting'. He really should have expected that after Hermione had stopped by the other day with a suitcase full of books. He hadn't paid any attention to the books at the time, not with the cooking and serving and trying to anticipate Ron's every need.

All in all, his life had rapidly become a living hell.

"Seduce him."  
"How? That idiot gave him a book that's way more interesting than me."  
"Why, thanks Harry," Hermione snapped.  
"Sorry, but I can't think straight anymore," Harry apologized.  
"Draw him a bath," Hermione said after a moment of thinking. "Massage him in candle light, maybe put on some slow music."  
"He's not a woman!"  
"Isn't he?" George grinned, levitating the teapot on the table. "Reading books and not wanting to fuck — sounds like a woman to me."  
"Hey!" Hermione protested.  
"Actually, sounds like Hermione to me," Fred shouted from the next room.  
"Yeah?" Hermione said, smirking suddenly. "Well, I don't hear Charlie complaining about the lack of sex, only Harry."

Harry sighed.

Next day Harry did follow Hermione's advice. He drew a bath, put on some music with a raspy-throat singer, and pampered Ron for hours. He showered him with small, lingering kisses that Ron seemed to approve. After a long bath, he dried him with sensual, slow motion before guiding him to bed on his belly to relax under his magical hands. After a half an hour rubbing and kneading Harry finally advanced to Ron's posterior just to realise Ron had fallen asleep.

Harry ended up wanking alone in the shower fantasising about the time they didn't know Ron was pregnant.


	6. 5/9

**5/9**

 

"Gotta have some coffee!"  
"You're not allowed," Harry tried to say but it was too late. Ron had already snatched the half-empty cup from his hand.  
"Don't care," Ron said as soon as he had gulped down the remains of Harry's coffee. "Have anything to eat? I'm starving."  
"Help yourself."

Harry watched, amused, as Ron started to gulf down the sandwiches. It was definitely past the time when he couldn't eat anything — right now he ate everything in sight. The Ministry intern popped in for a second, threw a disgusted glance at Ron, especially his protruding belly that was visible now even from underneath his loose robes.

"Anything you needed, Hillary?" Harry asked mildly but couldn't keep his eyes from narrowing a bit. After all, Ron was carrying _his_ baby.  
"No, Mr Potter," Hillary answered and turned on her heels at once.  
"Got any mustard?" Ron managed between sandwiches three and four. "These taste a bit peaky."  
"Yeah, here you go," Harry smirked and threw a bottle of Mauvin's Magical Mustard at Ron.  
"Thanks, mate."

Right then, Arthur emerged at the doorway.

"Here you are, Son. And, Harry."  
"Arthur", Harry smiled to his future Father-in-law. "I don't think Ron is capable of speaking right now as he's trying to empty the pantry by eating."  
"'It", Ron mumbled spraying half-eaten pieces of bred as he spoke. Harry rolled his eyes.  
"Yes, yes, I remember the time," Arthur guffawed, eyeing fondly at his youngest son. "Molly ate everything she made. I'm fortunate to be still alive with the amount of food I managed to get at the time. But, Harry, I wanted to ask you something."  
"Yes?"  
"Well," Arthur glanced rather nervously at Ron, "maybe we could have a word in private?"  
"Of course," Harry said and rose up immediately. "Ron, I'll be back in a moment."

Ron waved his hand but didn't try to talk any more. He was busy gulping down the large glass of milk and didn't even question what his Dad could have to say to Harry that couldn't be said in his presence.

"So, are you finished?" Harry asked after a few minutes as he came back, looking like a cat who swallowed a canary.  
"Yeah, for a while," Ron sighed. "I know I haven't been exactly a light eater before but now, it's like I'm hungry all the time."  
"Well, you have two to feed at the moment," Harry cooed on Ron's ear before licking it slowly. He slid his hand on Ron's belly and stroke it gently. "Let's go."

Ron rose up clumsily but eagerly, and grabbed Harry's stretched hand. This was why he was visiting Harry every single workday. This was why he flew to the Leaky Cauldron despite of the weather, and walked seventeen blocks to the Ministry as Harry had vehemently denied him from Flooing or Apparating. Ron was horny all the time, and there was _no way_ he could wait until Harry came home from work. Not a chance.

It didn't even help if he tried to wank during the day — it really had to be Harry and it had to be rough.

They reached Harry's room and slipped in, hand in hand. The secretary didn't even look up as they went by. He was used to seeing the young couple locking themselves in for ten minutes, sometimes maybe even for fifteen. He was only glad that they had remembered to use Silencing Charm every single time — after the catastrophic first time, that is. The secretary had seriously considered Obliviating himself after hearing all those things. It's not that he was homophobic or anything, but he hadn't been able to look at his boss in the eyes for weeks after hearing what his partner had called him in the throes of passion.

Behind the sound-proof, locked, counter-cursed and booby-trapped door, Harry was about to enter when Ron grunted.

"What's wrong?" Harry seized at once, his throbbing cock almost touching Ron's slick hole.  
"Oh, nothing. It's just a bit hard to breathe in this position," Ron explained, tugging his dick as he spoke.  
"What?!" Harry yelled. "Get up! Get up, right now, you idiot!"

Ron was heaved up before he could say another word, and Harry was nervously massaging Ron's pecs like it would help him to breathe.

"What are you doing?"  
"I don't know. Are you breathing now?"  
"Gee, lemme think."  
"Sorry."  
"Worry much?"  
"Well, I panicked!"  
"That much was very clear. Maybe if I bend over —"  
"Oh. But —"  
"Yeah, I know. I would also like to watch me come if I was fucking me."

Harry stared at Ron for a moment, trying to figure out what he was saying.

"What?"  
"Nothing. Can we fuck now?"  
"Well..."  
"Oh, come on already! I'll keep the looks on until you've come and then turn over and you can see it."

Harry rolled his eyes. Then he got an idea.

"What if we were in front of a mirror?"

* * *

It was the single worst day in the secretary's life. It wasn't just the voices he had heard but this time he had seen the real, live show. In the toilet. No warning, no locked door, no nothing. He had to admit, though, that his superior had a fine looking arse. Not that he had been looking.

* * *

In Ron's opinion, the mirror was the greatest invention in the world. Not only could he stare at Harry in the eye while he was being fucked, he could also admire his own, flexed biceps as he pushed his hands against the counter for more leverage. It was great. Better than great, it was...

"What's better than great?" Ron huffed after Harry had come squirting inside him. Ron had come earlier — thanks to Harry's unmistakeably good aim at his prostate.

It took a while for Harry to answer. He was too busy catching his breath after collapsing on top of Ron's sweaty back. He blinked owlishly, and after his vision focused again, he chuckled.

"This?"

Ron really couldn't disagree.

* * *

Next Saturday, Harry threw the paper into the waste bin.

"What a load of —"  
"You want onions on your sandwich?" Ron intervened.  
"No."  
"Really? I thought you loved onions."  
"I don't," Harry huffed.  
"You used to, didn't you?"  
"Forget the fucking onions, will you?"

Ron licked his thumb clean, put the food back in the refrigerator before turning to Harry again.

"What's the problem, mate?"  
"The Daily Prophet, that's what the problem is!"  
"What did they print now?" Ron asked curiously and tried to snatch the crumbled paper out of the bin.  
"You don't have to see it," Harry snapped, vanishing the paper.  
"You can't vanish them all," Ron said serenely before tugging in to his second snack after lunch.  
"You sure?"

Harry's voice had venom in it, and Ron decided that at the moment his snack was more important than proving Harry wrong. Especially since he wasn't sure he could actually prove Harry wrong. Seriously, Ron really didn't see what the problem was. After the press had found out that he was pregnant to Harry, the Prophet had had a field day that had been lasting for the last three weeks. If it wasn't "The Abnormality of the Chosen of the Chosen One" it was "The Sure Way to Stay by Harry Potter's Side". Ron couldn't have cared less.

"Calm down, will you?" Ron said soothingly after finishing his meal.  
"Fuck off."  
"What is it that pisses you off with those titles? You've seen them all before. Remember our fifth year?"  
"Well, they're not about me this time, are they?"

Finally, Ron understood.

"So, that's what the problem is, isn't it."  
"What?" Harry grumbled.  
"It's bothering you that they write about me."  
"Well, isn't it bothering you? No, don't answer."  
"You utter moron. Do I look like I care about the Daily Prophet? They're a bunch of losers lying about everything. Why would I care?"

Harry looked at Ron. He really _looked_ at him. Slouching on the sofa with his t-shirt stretching over his cute, round belly, Ron had never looked so peaceful before. Harry had thought that the myth about the glowing pregnant women was just that — a myth. But now that he saw Ron get through the days that could sometimes be rather difficult, he knew better. After the vomiting, after the dizziness, after the time when nothing Harry made for dinner was edible, Ron had gotten that glow. Also, his actions were more secure, and he didn't seem to get annoyed on anything.

"You know I love you?" Harry said, crawling to Ron's side, not wanting to disturb him on the sofa.  
"Yeah, I know," Ron said, patting Harry's cheek almost absent-mindedly.  
"And, I would do anything for you, you know that, too?"  
"Yeah. Would you mind getting me a soda, while you're at it?"  
"Git," Harry chuckled, summoning a soda can.  
"Thanks, mate," Ron cheered, pointing the remote at the telly. "Also, would you mind moving aside? You're blocking the view."

Harry inched sideways and leaned on Ron's belly, his ear pressed against it. He had done his homework and knew that it was unlikely to feel the baby's movement before the sixth pregnancy month, but he wanted to be ready. He wanted to say hello to their child.

 

After watching a film they both fell asleep to, Harry guided Ron to the bedroom. He wished he was bigger than Ron so he could have carried him upstairs but as Ron now weighed over ten pounds more than normally, it really wasn't an option. Ron didn't allow himself to be levitated anywhere, so Harry settled in half-carrying, half-dragging his very pregnant partner to the bed.

Ron fell asleep at once, but Harry stayed awake, his ear on Ron's belly. Even if he couldn't hear the baby, it was oddly reassuring to hear Ron's heart beating steadily. At one point, Harry actually thought he felt some movement but after a couple of minutes of straining his ears and pressing his hand on the bump, Ron farted. Harry assumed, it must have been just Ron's indigestion, and stretched on his side of the bed, finally falling asleep.

Only to be woken up by roaring Ron after two hours of restless dreams.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!"  
"What? Where? Ron? Are you 'kay?" Harry mumbled, half-asleep.  
"Do I — fuuuuck — sound like I'm okay, you idiot?"

Harry lit his wand and peered around but didn't see anything alarming. Then he glanced at Ron who was almost doubled over his leg.

"What's the matter?"  
"My fucking leg, that's what!" Ron cursed, his face crumbled into a painful grimace.  
"Are you having a cramp?"  
"No, I just like to wake up and hug my leg for no reason."  
"Budge over, I'll take care of it," Harry said at once and grabbed Ron's leg.  
"Oh, fuck it hurts!"  
"I know, just... well, try to relax, will you?"

Harry kneaded Ron's leg after covering it with the duvet. He lifted it on his lap, massaging the tightened muscles continuously. He grabbed Ron by his ankle and forced him to bend it to stretch the calve even more.

"Better?" Harry dared after Ron's cursing had almost stopped.  
"Yeah, thanks."  
"No problem, mate. That's what I'm here for."  
"Yeah?"  
"Yeah, you dick," Harry chuckled and kissed Ron gently on the cheek.  
"Love you, too," Ron mumbled sleepily and drew the duvet on him.

Harry waited patiently until Ron had fallen asleep again before crawling under the bedding. He buried his head in Ron's neck and laid his hand beside his belly, right next to the brown line reaching down from Ron's protruding navel all the way to his pubic hair. Ron hated the line, but Harry didn't mind. There wasn't anything in Ron that Harry didn't like.

Not a single thing.


	7. 6/9

**6/9**

 

"Should we be worried?" Harry asked nervously.  
"Well..." the healer pondered, "It is not unusual for a first-timer to feel the movements later than someone who has given birth before."

Ron yawned. He hadn't had his afternoon nap because of the healer's appointment.

"Maybe he's lazy," he joked, but Harry didn't laugh. "Seriously, mate, you can see it with your own eyes — the baby is fine!"  
"Yes, yes, the heart rate is normal, and all the vital functions are within the range. There seems to be nothing wrong, so maybe Mr Weasley is right. Maybe the foetus is just... sluggish."  
"Comes from his Dad," Ron chuckled. "You should see Harry on Sunday morning — couldn't get him off the sofa if the house was on fire."

Harry didn't even crack a smile; he was too busy staring at the hologram. Then it happened.

"There!" he yelled, startling both Ron and the healer. "Did you see it? _He moved!_ "  
"Calm down, Mr Potter!" the healer barked, waving his wand. The hologram grew twice its size. "Did you feel that, Mr Weasley?"  
"What?"  
"As you can see, the foetus is changing position as we speak. You should feel _something_."  
"Oh, that!" Ron exclaimed, placing his hand on his belly. "I thought it was just gas."

Healer blinked twice, and then ground his teeth together. Harry hopped on the bedside and laid his hand next to Ron's. They waited for a moment until they suddenly drew sharp breaths at the same time.

"That... was that it?" Harry demanded, his eyes widening in surprise.  
"I think it was," Ron whispered reverently.  
"Well, I've felt _that_ before. I thought it was just gas, too."  
"You see?" Ron nodded sharply to the healer. "Feels like normal indigestion."

After that, it was impossible for Harry to leave Ron's side. His hand was always on Ron's belly, and every single time Ron sat down, Harry pressed his ear against the bump so that he could hear the baby.

"Are you expecting it to start talking soon?" Ron huffed, amused.  
"No," Harry hummed, his eyes closed. "It just feels more real when I can feel it. And hear it."

Ron ruffled Harry's hair, but then pushed him off.

"Got to pee."

Ron had just closed the bathroom door when there was a tapping on the window. Harry let the small owl in and unravelled the note from its leg. He read the letter quickly, turned it over, and scribbled an answer on the other side of the parchment. He had just closed the window after the owl had taken off when Ron emerged from the loo.

"I think I'm dehydrated. Must've peed at least a dozen pints today. Is there any soda?"  
"Sure," Harry grinned.

He waited patiently until Ron came back from the kitchen, carrying not only the soda but also a large plate full of assorted snacks. Ron threw himself on the sofa and put the plate on top of his belly.

"Ron, there's something I haven't told you," Harry began. He took the soda can out of Ron's fingers and placed it on the table.  
"Oh?"  
"Yeah, well, first of all, I've quit my job."  
"What?"  
"I want to be home with you," Harry explained, rubbing Ron's swollen fingers soothingly. "And, it's not like we can do this again, the twins still don't know how you got pregnant."

Ron grabbed a cookie and crammed it in his mouth. He munched it for a while, staring at Harry's nervous smile.

"Okay, I guess it makes sense," Ron said eventually. He tried to reach the soda can but couldn't. "Could you pass me the —"  
"In a minute. There's something else I want to talk about."

Harry produced a small box from his pocket. He stared at it, glanced at Ron, and finally thrust the box in Ron's hand, removing the empty tray off his belly.

"What's this?"  
"Open it."

Ron furrowed his brow. Harry was acting very weird, and his voice was higher than usual. Of course, Ron recognized the jewellery box but he didn't understand why Harry had bought him something shiny. Neither one of them were _that_ kind of gay. So, it took a couple of minutes for Ron to find something to say after he had pried the lid open.

"Blimey."  
"Yeah."  
"Do you mean —"  
"Yeah."  
"Seriously?"  
"You don't want to?"  
"No! Of course I do!"  
"Really?"  
"But I didn't know that —"  
"Your Dad."  
"My — what?"

Harry chuckled and took the two golden rings out of the velvety box.

"Your Dad got us a permission to get married. That is if you'd take me."  
"Git," Ron huffed, rolling his eyes. "Of course I would!"

Harry's answering smile was so bright, it illuminated the whole living room. Ron wiped a stray tear out of the corner of his eye.

"Are you welling up?" Harry teased, taking Ron's left hand in his.  
"Shut up."  
"No, I won't," Harry quipped, rising to one knee. "Ron, would you marry me?"  
"Yeah, I would," Ron replied softly.

* * *

The wedding ceremony was beautiful, and thanks to Harry and Ron's demands, mercifully short. Ron noticed the womenfolk huddling together, sharing their stash of handkerchiefs and weeping. On the other hand, the twins were grinning broadly next to Charlie and Lee, making Ron feel secure — at least some things were constant, the weeping Hermione had scared the daylights out of him. But as Ron checked the man beside him, he was surprised to see that Harry, too, had tears in his eyes — the same eyes that kept staring at him.

"Quit checking me out!" Ron hissed from the corner of his mouth.  
"I love you," Harry mouthed, looking like a love sick cow in Ron's opinion.  
"Bugger," Ron mumbled as he felt his own eyes to moisten.

Hermione served as a best man for both of them — she was able to organize everything by herself, so there was no need to involve anyone else. Even Ginny showed up dressed in a feminine gown, surprising them all. Harry didn't remember the last time he had seen her in anything other than the Quidditch gear.

"You're a good catch," Ginny teased Harry while Ron was fetching the fourth slice of the cake.  
"Really?" Harry asked, genuinely surprised. Ginny had dumped him two months after the war, saying that he was boring.  
"Yeah. Well, for Ron anyway. It's not like he could do any better," Ginny smirked and pinched Harry's cheek. "I'm seeing someone, too."  
"Oh?"  
"Yeah. Mom won't be pleased to hear that I'm the third gay out of the seven of us."  
"Oh!"  
"There she is," Ginny said softly, pointing at an athletic looking, dark skinned woman in her forties who had just emerged from the door. She waved at Ginny and walked briskly towards them.

"Gwen, meet Harry Potter," Ginny introduced, placing a soft kiss on Gwenog's cheek. "Harry, this is my Gwen. Gwenog Jones."  
"Oh," Harry said, before remembering his manners. "Pleased to meet you, Ms Jones."  
"And you, Mr Potter," Gwenog said, smiling. "I believe congratulations are in order. You two set a fine example for the rest of us."

Ginny blushed, but Harry didn't figure out the meaning behind Gwenog's words before he led Ron to the floor for the last dance. He cast a bemused glance at Ginny who had her arms wrapped around Gwenog at the other side of the room.

"We'd better not rip our clothes this evening," Harry whispered in Ron's ear while they swayed with the music.  
"Huh?"  
"We might need them at the next wedding."  
"The next what?" Ron asked, bewildered.  
"Just call it a hunch."


	8. 7/9

**7/9**

 

"I can't believe he is so big already," Molly cooed, looking at the picture with the moving baby in it. "And, you're sure that he's a he?"  
"Yes," Harry confirmed as Ron's mouth was full of lentil soup. "We found out a couple of weeks ago but didn't want to say anything before the third trimester."  
"A beautiful grandson," Molly sniffled.

The baby in the picture pushed its fist into its mouth, and a triple-sigh escaped from the three set of lips.

"Have you thought about names yet?" Molly asked.  
"No," Ron said.  
"Yes," Harry said at the same time.

Ron looked curiously at Harry. He had always thought of, and spoken of, the baby as "the tadpole" but was sure that it wasn't what Harry had in mind. Harry blushed but didn't elaborate.

"We must hurry," Harry said too soon. "I promised to drop Ron off at the store while I go and see what they've been up to at the Ministry."  
"Give the twins my love," Molly said, still tears in her eyes.

* * *

Ron was bored. Lee was on a business trip, Angelina was still at St. Mungo's where she worked as a healer, and Fred and George busied themselves with their new project of whatchamacallit. Ron was just thinking of raiding the fridge when the Floo Bell chimed.

"Hello, brother dear," Charlie announced as soon as he hopped off the Floo.  
"Hi, guys!" Hermione chirped, arriving right behind Charlie. "Oh, hi, Ron!"

Ron grinned as he saw his brother stretch out his hand to help Hermione step down the fireplace. Charlie had more manners in his pinkie than Ron could ever even dream of having. It had to be a fact; Hermione had said it herself after starting to date Charlie. At the time, Ron had been strangely relieved that she had found someone else — a few months later Ron had realised that he had a thing for Harry. Fortunately, Harry had the same kind of thing for Ron, and the rest was history.

"Well, hello, hello," Fred hollered, arriving in the kitchen.  
"Greetings, dear relatives," George said, coming in on the heels of his twin.  
"We came for," Charlie started, and then glanced at Ron, "—you know."  
"I don't," Ron mused, intrigued.  
"That's the point, little bro," Charlie coughed.  
"Yeah, sure," George said grinning. "Let me get _it_ for you."  
"Be sure to get _the right one_ from the lot," Fred mock-assured, throwing a furtive glance at Ron.  
"Of course," George smirked, winking conspiratorially at Charlie. "I'll even bag _it_ so that _no one_ ," George pointed at Ron," whose business _it_ isn't will be able to see _it_."  
"For Merlin's sake..." Ron muttered, rolling his eyes. "Hermione, what's up?"

The twins burst into laughter. Fred tapped the teapot with his wand while George went back to fetch Charlie's thing.

"We are trying to get pregnant, and the twins have something that helps the process," Hermione said at once. Her eyes lingered on Ron's round belly, and she smirked. "After all, they can do miracles."

Hermione had meant her words as a joke, but Fred's face fell and, if Charlie's reflexes weren't that good, also the teapot Fred had been holding would have fallen.

"Oh, my," Fred breathed and ran to the backroom without even a glance at his guests.

"That was odd — even for Fred," Charlie chuckled. "Anyone up for some tea?"

* * *

Later that night, they all sat at the long kitchen table; the whole of Weasley clan, including Harry, Hermione, Angelina and the rest of the spouses. Fred cleared his throat, and all of them fell silent.

"So, now we all know why our brother dear is pregnant."  
"Blessed with a child," George intervened reverently.  
"George, behave!" Molly chided.  
"Yes, behave, father George!" Fred quipped but continued with the story after Molly turned her gaze at him. "Well, anyway, we've been trying to get pregnant with Angelina for a while now."

Fred glanced at his wife who smiled serenely.

"And, well, we concocted a potion that's supposed to help. It's got ground unicorn horn, cost a fortune, mind you, and also ground reindeer antler."  
"It was my suggestion," Hermione explained. "Reindeer antler has been used as a libido enhancer in Finland for centuries. That's in Northern Europe."  
"And you gave it to Ron?!" Harry exclaimed furiously.  
"No, of course not!" George rejected. "I made Ron's potion myself, and it was pure Antidote for U-No-Poo!"

Ron blushed and avoided Hermione's inquiring look.

"But the question is: where did you make it?!" Fred asked, clearly thrilled about the situation.

George stared at his twin for two seconds before flinching like Fred had hit him.

"You mean that —"  
"Yes."  
"All this time, you've —"  
"Yes."  
"And, I might have —"  
"Yes," Fred said, smirking apologetically, "sorry." 

George shivered, and Lee looked puzzled.

"What is it?" Lee asked.  
"I'll tell you later."

Ron looked like a thunder cloud, and Harry had trouble keeping him still.

"And?" Harry said, irritated.  
"Well. I mixed our potion in the same mortar that George did his. And Ron's."  
"So, it was mixing U-No-Poo Antidote with that concoction of yours that made Ron pregnant?"

Fred nodded.

"You must report this to the Improper Use of Magic Office!" Hermione declared. "All the new potions must be registered and tested."  
"Yeah, or we could bottle it and sell it to gay pairs."  
"Fred —" Hermione started, but was cut off.  
"Only on one condition!" Ron barked, narrowing his eyes. "I'll get 50 per cent profit for being an involuntary guinea pig."  
"Hear, hear!" Harry grinned.


	9. 8/9

**8/9**

 

Ron had trouble breathing. He tried to roll over but changed his mind immediately, rolling back onto his left side — he could breathe even less while lying on his back. Harry's hand that was curled around his chest didn't help at all.

"Geroff me!"  
"Wha?"  
"You're killing me!"  
"What?!"

Harry sprang up immediately, searching for the intruder in the bright wand light. When he didn't see anything disturbing, he turned his attention back to Ron who was gulping for air.

"'S matter?"  
"Can't breathe," Ron wheezed.  
"What can I do?!"  
"You can come back here," Ron grunted. "Just turn your back on me; I need to keep my arm higher."

Harry did as he was told, and soon Ron's heavy arm lay on top of him.

"Is it helping?"  
"Yeah, loads."  
"Brilliant!"

Ron's left hand dangled in front of Harry's eyes and before he noxed his wand, he saw the gold band glinting on the ring finger. He fell down onto his pillow, smiling ecstatically.

 

The next days were hard on Ron and even harder on Harry. Ron walked around like a duck, and Harry kept hovering around him almost trying to carry him all over the place. Ron was not amused.

It was also hot. Ron kept nagging about 'carrying a radiator', and Harry guessed the baby was generating a lot of heat. On the other hand, because of the heat, Ron wore only a minimum amount of clothes, and Harry got plenty of eye-fulls of his round, sweaty belly.

He hadn't mentioned it to Ron, but the belly made him horny all the time. It was something he didn't want to think about too much. He wasn't having any inappropriate feelings towards their child; instead, he was getting kicks from the fact that Ron was having _their child_ and carrying it inside of him. Enclosed in that huge tummy. Under that stretched skin that was glistening with the ointment Harry had been rubbing on it every day at every chance he got.

Umm, as previously mentioned, Harry didn't want to think about it too much — it just kept his cock semi-erect 24/7.

Which created another problem, since they couldn't have proper sex anymore.

 

"I want you to fuck me!"

Ron was huffing and puffing while Harry wanked him from behind. Harry's pulsating cock was buried between Ron's buttocks; boxer covered buttocks mind you, because Harry had said no. It was clear now, from which opening Ron had gotten pregnant, and Harry was worried he could actually bump the baby loose. Ron had laughed at him, saying that he was an idiot because they had already been fucking every single day, multiple times per day, since the impregnation, and nothing bad had happened.

Still, Harry had said no. He was happy to slap Ron's monkey anytime, or preferably blow him, but no fucking.

And all Ron really wanted was that gorgeous, hard prick to penetrate his ass roughly — over and over again. Not just vibrate between his butt cheeks — although it's not that Ron had anything against that, either, but it just wasn't the same. Not the real thing.

"That's it! Tomorrow, we're going to see that healer."

 

The healer didn't look happy. In fact, Ron got the feeling that he wanted very much to call the security as soon as he saw them. It probably had something to do with the fact that they had started to grope each other the last time they'd visited St Mungo's. Technically, it had been Harry who had gone on his knees for Ron; but nevertheless, Ron wasn't a man who would let his husband take all the guilt.

"Do you promise to keep your hands to yourselves?" the healer asked nervously.  
"Of course," Harry assured him. "By the way, it's perfectly normal to—"  
"I don't want to hear about it! I don't care what you do in your home as long as you stay civil when you're in my hospital!"

Harry and Ron glanced at each other. Behind the healer, Ron made a wanking gesture with his fist. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Okay, we just want to know if the baby could possibly be hurt if we... well, if we do the thing-that-must-not-be-named," Ron asked. " _I_ know that he couldn't, but Mr Fancypants here thinks that he might."  
"Of course not!" the healer snorted. "Firstly, if you are not directly touching the abdomen, the foetus can only feel the big movements: shaking and swaying and so on. Usually this does not harm the foetus. That is why there is amniotic fluid in the uterus."  
"Yeah?" Harry said, half annoyed and half eager — after all, there was a possibility that he could fuck Ron in half an hour. "And secondly?"  
"Secondly," the healer said, quirking his eyebrow, "It's not that big."  
"Excuse me?!"  
"The foetus is attached approximately in the middle of the descending colon, even a donkey couldn't reach that far. No offense, Mr Potter."  
"None taken," Harry and Ron said together, eyeing each other slyly. The healer fled the room.

As soon as they got home, Harry waved his wand, banishing their clothes. He started by snogging Ron thoroughly; lavishing his face, chin, throat, and chest with languid wet and extremely sloppy kisses. He didn't dare try the bed since it was clear that it wasn't a good idea for Ron to lie on his back. Instead, Harry laid Ron gently on the sofa and settled himself between his legs.

Ron was hard as hell and almost came when Harry finally thrust in.

"Oh, feels _so_ good," Harry grunted, stroking Ron's legs that were propped against his chest.  
"Been — too — long," Ron kept gasping for more air.  
"You all right?" Harry asked, trying to focus. He wasn't worried about the baby anymore; he was worried about Ron's breathing.  
"DON'T YOU DARE STOP NOW!" Ron bellowed, clutching Harry's arms so tight his fingernails cut into the skin. "So close, soclose _soclose..._ "

Harry kept the steady pace, only adjusting the angle and whacking Ron's cock a couple of times. When Ron came, he exhaled so many expletives that even Harry startled a bit. Fortunately, he didn't have time to think it over because seeing Ron come apart under him, because of him, made his dick explode and all of his muscles flex for a few glorious seconds before they turned into marshmallow.

Ron kept caressing Harry's back for a long time before Harry regained his consciousness.

"Atta boy."


	10. 9/9

**9/9**

 

Ron was twirling in front of the full body mirror again. Harry was pretending to be immersed in the huge stack of Quidditch-related papers, but he was really keeping an eye on Ron.

"Damn!" Ron said eventually and lowered the hem of his gigantic shirt over his protruding belly again.  
"What?" Harry pretended to look up from his papers.  
"The lotion didn't work," Ron grunted and tucked the hem of his shirt in his trousers.  
"Hmm?"  
"The lotion you've been rubbing on my belly."  
"Oh," Harry said, trying to keep his expression neutral, even though he was getting a hard-on just because Ron had mentioned his belly.

Harry could see it all the time, of course, but this was different. Soon he would be able to see it without Ron having any clothes on! Harry had thought once or twice of suggesting to Ron of carrying another baby after this one was born. But it showed enormous mental restraint on Harry's part that he had the sense to keep from blurting anything about another pregnancy, especially since Ron was suffering from haemorrhoids and gas issues. It was difficult, though, because of his new fetish.

Pregnancy scars.

"Let's see it, then," Harry said briskly and adjusted himself smoothly before getting up. Ron didn't object, just lay down on the bed and lifted his shirt again. Now that the baby had descended, he didn't have trouble breathing anymore. Harry was glad; it made fucking so much easier.

Harry sat down on his knees between Ron's legs. He stared. In fact, he kept staring for so long that Ron pushed himself up, leaning on his elbows, and stared back at Harry nervously.

"Is there something wrong? They look a bit red but..." Ron started, but Harry shushed him.  
"Lemme see closer," he said huskily and pressed his lips gently on Ron's belly.

He licked along every single scar he could see on Ron's white, round belly. They weren't the cute white ones he had first expected but it didn't really matter. All the same, they tasted good under his tongue and made him want to hump the mattress harder.

"Umm, Harry?"  
"Hnng."  
"Are you humping the mattress?"

Harry looked embarrassed.

"You realise, there'll be no scars after I have them fixed, right? After the delivery?"  
"NO!" Harry shouted louder than he intended. "I mean, why would you want to do that? No-one will ever see them but me, and well, I'm fine with them."

Ron looked sceptical.

"It's okay that I have a big belly full of scars?"

Harry swallowed hard and tried to keep calm. It was difficult, as he was kneeling in front of Ron, in between his bent legs to be precise, and was having a massive hard-on.

"So, you wouldn't mind if I had this huge thing..." Ron massaged his belly with wide, languid strokes, "...all greased up, full of long, deep scars..."

Harry lost the thin control he had had and grabbed his dick, letting out a tremulous whine.

"Wow, you _are_ a kinky sod," Ron sniggered.

Harry pushed his magically slick finger inside the now magically unclothed Ron.

"Love you too. Need to fuck now."

 

Ron couldn't really sit anymore, he lounged. He couldn't stand up without help, either, so there was Harry. Ogling at Ron's stomach. They had an appointment for delivery on Thursday, and it was already Tuesday, so Harry didn't have any time to waste. He took pictures. Then he took some more pictures. This time, though, he was excited about their son growing inside Ron rather than for any other reasons. Not that he hadn't stashed some of the pregnancy photos in a safe place for later use, but still, he _was_ going to be a father!

And whenever he was within reach, which he was all the time since he had quit his job, his ear was pressed against Ron's enormous belly.

"Calvin."  
"Pfft. Veto. Hobbes."  
"Git. Veto. I still like John."  
"I don't. Veto."

This had been going on for a while, before Ron grunted.

"Gotta pee."

He reached out his hands so that Harry could hoist him up. As soon as he was safely on his two feet (Harry _did_ cheat a little, but just because he didn't have enough muscle capacity for lifting his pregnant husband, not because he was skinny), Ron farted.

"Maybe number two, too."

Harry took the advantage and cleared the breakfast table. He had just started the dishes and was carrying, rather carefully, the hideous bowl Aunt Muriel had given them as a wedding present, when Ron yelled from the bathroom.

"Mate, a little help?"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Just use the blue sponge. It's got a long handle. You'll manage."  
"No, it's just that—"

Harry heard a gushing sound and stopped in the middle of the kitchen.

"Well, I've been shitting liquid for two minutes now. I think my water broke," Ron yelled.

There was a crash from the kitchen, like an ugly bowl smashing into hundreds of even uglier pieces. Then a thud, like someone quite midget-y dropping limply on the floor. Ron winced and waited for a second.

"Harry?"

"..."

"Bloody hell..."

 

**_THE END_ **


End file.
